Magnetic
by likecominghome
Summary: From the moment she laid eyes on him, she was drawn to his presence.


The tension in the air was palpable; thick enough that she was forced to swallow to alleviate the discomfort of her dry throat. She wasn't entirely sure what she had been expecting when she knocked on his door. Two months had passed since they'd last seen each other. Two months since she had breathed in his comforting scent or felt his hot touch on her skin.

Quite honestly, it would not have surprised her if he had slammed the door in her face. She would deserve such harsh treatment after their last conversation, the conversation in which she managed to break two hearts simultaneously.

She had the fate of being born into a privileged family. Although a life of luxury was comfortable, she had often wondered what lay beyond the wrought iron gates of her family's large estate. It was this curiosity which led she into a bar in the nearest town and ultimately to him.

From the moment she laid eyes on him, she had felt drawn into his presence. It was a magnetic attraction which had her body responding of its own volition. Without thinking, she had somehow floated towards him, mesmerized by the way he always seemed to look genuinely interested in every person's stories and when he flashed her a smile, the rest was history.

Just as with the night they had met, she had been drawn back. The simple fact that she had been able to resist running to him for two months was miraculous. As she stood in his doorway, she had expected him to shake his head in disgust and send her away.

Instead, he had placed a hand on her shoulder and pulled her out of the cold, shaking his head as he scolded her for being crazy enough to walk to his place in the freezing rain. After taking her coat and handing her a cup of steaming tea to warm up her insides, he stood with his arms crossed, leaning back against the granite kitchen countertop, his stare hard.

"What are you doing here, Lydia?"

His voice was soft, but his tone stern. His eyes narrowed as he watched she gulp down the last of her tea and set the empty cup on the counter behind she, feeling much warmer, but also extremely nervous.

She opened her mouth to speak, but their gazes met and she became lost. His eyes were her biggest weakness. She was fascinated by the fact that they changed colors depending on the day and the angle at which they were struck by light. Some days they were hazel, speckled with flecks of gold and green, other days they were a rich caramel in which she swore she could drown. Today, they were amber, burning bright with anger and hurt and confusion.

"I'm sorry, Stiles," she whispered, wishing her apology could be enough, but knowing the words could never sew together the shattered mess she'd left his heart. For a moment she thought perhaps he would find some solace in knowing that she'd been nearly destroyed as well, but then she realized that Stiles would hate to see her distraught, no matter the circumstances, because no matter how upset he was, he would always care about her.

He sighed, running a hand through his thick dark curls before tracing his finger down his sharp jawline. "Maybe you were right. Maybe it's better this way."

Her heart dropped as she studied his expression. His eyes were flooded with pain and she felt sick to her stomach at the realization that she was the cause of his hurt. Just as she was about to make an excuse to leave, she noticed something else in his gaze: swirled in with the anger and sorrow, there was a glimmer of hope. As if deep down, he wanted her to fight for him; to fight for their relationship.

Squaring her shoulders towards him, she stared straight into his eyes, determined to let him know that she would do whatever it took. "Do you really believe that? Because I think we're better together."

"What would your father say?" he spat out bitterly, his eyes shooting daggers in her direction.

She flinched at the mention of her father. As much as she loved him, she knew her father would never understand how she fell in love with a bartender. Afraid of what her family would think, she had used them as an excuse to end her secret relationship with Stiles; claiming her parents would never allow them to be together so it was best if things ended before either of them became too attached.

The problem was, she was already attached. Even from miles away, she had been unable to resist his pull. She could feel him constantly, his hands grazing her skin, his warm body pressed up against hers as they made love in his tiny apartment into the early hours of the morning.

It was more than just physical attraction, though. The magnetism between them had been difficult to ignore ever since their first meeting. When they were apart she missed more than just their physical connection: she missed his beautiful heart as well. The way he saw a silver lining in every situation, his fierce loyalty to those closest to him, the way he would go to the ends of the earth to protect the ones he loved.

Everything about him had drawn her in, until she realized she had fallen hard and fast. She was so in love with him that she had been aching for the past few months. After crying herself to sleep had become tiring, she had grown up and realized that he was worth fighting for. She was willing to do whatever it took for the two of them to be together.

"He doesn't have to know," she whispered, taking a step towards him, her hands naturally wanting to reach for him, but she twisted her fingers together, knowing they were not yet at the point where physical contact would be alright.

Anger flashed in his eyes, a fire lighting behind the amber, turning it to a stunning liquid gold. "I won't be your dirty little secret."

Her heart ached at his words. She wanted more than anything for the two of them to have a normal relationship. For them to be able to hold hands in public without facing judgment and have her parents love him for everything he was, just as she did. As she watched his eyes burn with determination, she felt a sudden spark of empowerment.

"He might hate you."

Stiles shook his head, stepping towards her, placing his hands at her hips. She melted instantly into his touch, her skin igniting with electricity as she savored the feeling of his fingers rubbing against her waist, his thumbs dipping upwards to sneak beneath the hemline of her shirt so they could swipe against her skin.

His eyes bore into hers as he spoke. "I don't care. I don't care if your father hates me. I would rather him despise me for the rest of my life than be a coward and hide from him."

Her heart swelled at his words. He was willing to face her father's wrath so they could be together, and if he could do that, then she was certain she could too. As long as he was by her side, she knew she could handle her father's disappointment or rage or whatever came next.

"Then let's tell my father," she replied, reaching a hand up to play with the hair at the nape of his neck.

His eyes scanned her face, searching for a hint of insincerity. "Are you sure? Once you go there, there's no turning back. Your life might never be the same."

"I'm alright with that," she said softly, lifting the corners of her lips into a reassuring smile, her thumb running over his chin. "I'm ready for my life to change. I just want you in it."

A small smile touched his lips as he leaned forward, gently brushing his lips against hers. She felt her skin tingle in anticipation as he softly pressed a kiss to her mouth. Their lips moved slowly together as they reacquainted themselves with the feeling of each other's kiss. Her lips parted slightly, allowing his tongue to sneak between her teeth, gliding gently against hers. She smiled into the kiss, pressing her lips against his passionately as she poured out all the unspoken emotion and frustration of the past two months.

Her breathing was shallow when he pulled away, pressing a peck to her mouth before leaning back slightly. His eyes were lighter now, no longer burning with anger, but swimming with love.

"I would do anything for you," she whispered, her fingers lightly grazing over his long eyelashes.

His lips twisted into a smirk, his eyes sparkling mischievously. "Anything?"

Rolling her eyes at his implications, she ran her hands down his chest before sneaking her fingers under the hem of his shirt to feel his hardened abdominal muscles. She had missed the way his body reacted to her touch: muscles tightening and rolling beneath his smooth skin. Before she walked towards a conversation which would undoubtedly change her life forever, she needed to be with him one more time.

"Make love to me."

His eyebrows raised in surprise, not expecting her to take his innuendos seriously. "Right now?"

She nodded. "Make love to me and then we can go tell my father that I'm running off with the local bartender."

He laughed softly and a smile instantly crossed her face at the beautiful sound, thinking it sounded like her favorite song.

"As you wish," he whispered as he leaned down to kiss her again.


End file.
